THE NOVELLIST.

Otago Witness, Issue 2213, 30 July 1896, Page 45

THE NOVELLIST.

[•Published by Special Abeakgbmbnt.]

HER PROMISE TRUE.

By LOR A RUSSELL. Author of " Footprints in the Snow," " A Country Sweetheart/ "A Man's Privilege," &o.

hastily in the direction whence he thought it proceeded, and shis was the sight that soon met his. honor* ttricken'gaze : Lady frobyn was kneeliDg on the ground, holding her son's head up in her x arms, and ( his blood was'streaming over her bandß and dress. The vicar uttered an exolamatipn, and, as Lady Probyn raised her agonised "eyes to bis face, in a moment he was kneeline bvher side. . ••

He was a man prompt and. thoughtful. In an instant it flashed through his mind what had occurred. He saw the revolver lylng.on the grass, where it. had fallen from Diok Probyn's nerveless hand; he saw the mother's uncovered white hair, and the terrible misery written on her face.

Bat he asked no question?, and she gave no explanation. He drew out his handkerchief and folded it tightly. ' "Hold this across the wound," he said, " and press it as hard as you can, bo as to partially, at least, stop the bleeding. Put his head a little lower— so. Now I will run to the bouse for assistance, and send a man galloping for the doctor. It has been an accident.""

Lady Probyn often remembered afterwards those last thoughtful words. If her son were spared to her, none need know of his rash deed..

"It -has been an accident," she repeated faintly; and then, as the vicar rose and hastily left her, she lifted up her eyes in silent prayer. , " Only let me have been in time 1 0 God, only let me have been in time," her soul cried forth, though no words came from her parted lips. But this idea sustained her. She felt buoyed up with the thought that she had been pent to save her son ; /that her prayer had been heard and answered. Once or twica Dick moaned faintly, but he spoke no word, nor did Lady Probyn address him. She knelt, holding him up, her very attitude showing the tenderest love. - And in the briefest time that it was possible the vicar j returned to her, closely followed by servants, carrying restoratives, and all in a state of great excitement. " We must not move him until the doctor arrives/ laid the vicar, kneeling down by Diok's other Bide, and laying his band on bla

[Copxrioht.] v

Chapter XX.

An Accident. .DV PROBYN'S terrible cry had been heard by other ears as well as her unhappy son's. Mr Trelawney, the vicar, was walking meditatively in the woods at Hurst when that scream of horror smote the air. He ran

wrist. They were anxious moments these. The vicar was afraid to move the handkerohief, which Lady Probyn still kept pressed tightly to her son's face, as the bullet had torn one of his lips before it entered bis cheek, It was, indeed, a ghastly wound, and it was with more than thankful hearts that the doctor's harrying footsteps at last were heard.

The vicar rose to reoeive him and took bis hand.

11 Sir Richard has met with an accident," he said quietly. The dootor nodded, and at once knelt down by Sir Dick.

11 1 think you had better go away for afow minutes, Lady Probyn," he suggested, " while I examine the wound."

" Yes, Lady Probyn," said the vicar, and he assisted her to her feet. A pillow that one of the servants bad brought was then placed beneath Sir Dick's head, and the doctor commeaced his task. AlaB ! he knew as he looked that the oomely young face was disfigured for evermore. He knew, too, that the wound, if not fatal, was of a dangerous nature, and after a brief examination, and having done all he could to staunch the bleeding, hs had a word to whisper in the vicar's ears.

' " It is a very serious case," he said ; '• I should prefer that further advice from town were at once called in."

Lady Probyn, who was standing a little apart, as the dootor had beokoned the vicar aside, now lifted her mute, imploring eyes to his.

The dootor — a kind-hearted man— saw and understood the uujpoken question. He therefore went up to Lady Probyn, and spoke to her as hopefully as he con Id.

" It is a serious wound," he said, " but we must hope lor the best. He has youth on his side, and no doubt we will be able to pull him through.' Bub as I have just been telling- the vicar, I should like one of the leadiDg surgeonß from town called in*. What do you say to Sir Richard Power 1 " "Yea, telegraph," replied. Lady Probyn, almost below her breath. "And— and you give me hope 1 " '■ Certainly," answered the dootor, with an assurance he was far from really feeling. But his words were balm to the mother's heart. She returned to hor son's side ; she knelt down and took his hand ; she helped in all they did for him. It was a terrible day, bnt she bore it without flinching, and when the great surgeon from town arrived at nightfall, and confirmed the country doctor's opinion that " they might pull him through," Lady Probyn's thankfulness was too great for nords.

In the meantime a report had readied Redvers Court that there had been an accident at Hurst. Belle heard it from her maid when she went up to dress for dinner, and as she listened a ohill thrill of fear orept into her heart;.

" Shot himself ? " she repeated after a moment's silence. " When did it happen 1 "

" It must have happened soon after he was here, my lady," answered the maid; "for John Bridge, one of the gardeners, met a groom from Hurßt tearing along the road at full gallop not an hour after Sir Richard rode out of the courtyard here. And the groom shouted to John Bridge that there had been an accident at Hurst, and that Sir Richard had shot himself in the woods."

Belle grew pale, almost faint ; she was remembering Sir Diok's last words to her, the despairing look in his face as he had turned and left her.

"Have you heard anything morel" she asked with faltering tongue. "

"Dr Davidson has been with him ever since," continued the maid, gratified to be the first to tell the news to her lady, for Sir Dick's attentions had not been unnoticed in the household, "and they s&y they have sent for some great London doctor. It was Lady Probyn who found him in the woods after he was shot."

Belle asked no more questions. She went down to dinner, but she could not eat ; and before the evening was over she sent one of the servants to inquire after Sir Dick, and' waited in great anxiety to hear the answer.

Lady Probyn was sitting by her. son's bedside when the message was whispered to her, and her delicate faoe fiu<.had when flbe heard Lady Stanmore's name. When he bad first bsen carried to his room her eyes had fallen on something glittering on the floor. She had stooped down and picked up the jeweller's oase which Sir Dick had carried to Redvers Court so lately with his heart full of hope and love. On. his return, in bis despair and bitter disappointment, he had flung it down and the dase had opened. Lady Prebyn looked at the beautiful, costly stones, and her heart seemed to know their history. Her son had bought this magnificent gem for the woman he loved, and the woman he loved had rejected it and broken her boy'B heart. She felt naturally but unjustly indignant. Belle was really not to blame for Sir Diok's infatuation, but his mother believed she was. She therefore felt angry when she received Lady Stanmore's massage of inquiry. She rose, left the bedside, and went to the door of the room oatside of whioh the maid was waiting.

" Tell Lady Stanmore Sir Richard is very ill," she said. She sent no- compliment or thanks, and with this oold comfort Belle was forced to be content. And the next morning it was the same thing. Again Belle sent over to Hurst to inquire, and again the same answer was returned. It was not reassuring, and Belle spent an uneasy, anxious day. She had really liked Sir Dick -liked his bright, Boyish nature ; and the fear that bis unfortunate attachment to herself had caused this catastrophe made her very unhappy. She expected Stanmore and her Aunt Lnoy, the Dowager Lady Stanmore, to arrive before dinner time, and the very first thing Stanmore said to her was t

" What ii this about Diok Probyn shooting himself, Belle?"

."It happened yesterday," answered Belle in a somewhat uneasy voice, which Stanmore noted. "It was an accident ; he shot himself in the woods. I sent last night to inquire, and again this morning "

" And what was the answer ? " asked Stanmore sharply.

" That he was very ill." 11 It's a terrible business. Whatever will his mother do 1 He was here, Green told me, jnfit before it happened." Ohe6n was the coachman who had been goal to the Btstiou to sieet Stanmore ftad.

■ Lady Sfcanraore, and he had feold his ruaeter of the tragedy that had occurred at Hurst, and also of Sir Diok's visit to Redvers.

" Yes, he was here," said Belle, trying to speak indifferently— " at least he called here when I was out j but I met him afterwards." "And did he seem all right then?"

"Yes, I think so."

Belle felt by Stanmore's manner that he was Buspioious of the circumstances of Sir Dick shooting himself, and Stanmore actually was.

"It Is an extraordinary thing," he oontinued. "What was he doing out with .a revolver in the woods ? At least Green said the accident happened with a revolver."

Belle made no reply, and was glad that at this moment Lady Stanmore returned to the room. She had been giving some directions to her maid, and she now also began speaking of what had happened at Hurst.

"They say the poor fellow is badly wounded," she said, looking at Belle. " All the servants are talking about it. Part of his face is torn away; it is a horrible- thing. Poor Lady Probyn 1 "

" I p|ty the poor lad," answered Stanmore, and he also looked at Belle. "I will ride over the first thing in'the morning myself, and will try to see Lady Probyn."

And Stanmore did this. He rode over immediately after breakfast the next day to Hunt, and Berit up his card, with a pencilled request written on it that he particularly wished to be permitted to see Lady Probyn.

She granted his request. Palo, shattered, and trembling she appeared before him, after a night of 'watching, and when Stanmore took her band with real sympathy in his tone and manner she at first was quite unable to speak,

" How did it happen, my dear lady 1 " said Stanmore. " What was he doing out with a revolver in the woods? "

Lady Probyn's qnivering lips oould frame no reply ; she lifted her blue eyes— so like poor Dick's — to Stanmore's face, and there was something in their expression that confirmed Stanmore's previous suspicions.

"Bat he has youth and a good constitution in his favour," oontinued Stanmore kindly. " Ob, you'll see, he'll pull through all right." "The dootors give vs — hope," faltered Lady Probyn. "If— only his life is spared " " And what does he lay himself 7 " "He ie not -allowed to speak. His mouth is too much injured ; it— it fc terrible." "It is, indeed. Is there anything I oan do for you, Lady Probyu ? Any help that I can give you ? "

The unhappy mother shook her head. " The vicar does all I require," she said ; "he has been very good. But I can think of nothing but my boy." Stanmore wrung her hand and left her, full of pity for her great anxiety and pain. And when be' returned to Redvers he at once sought out Belle.

" Oome here, Belie," he said, " I want to speak to you," and he beckoned her into the library and shut the door behind her.

" I have a question to ask you," he said, and he was speaking very gravely. " Was there any scene between you and Dick Probyn on the morning when he was here, before he shot himself ? "

Bello hesitated; her eyes fell, and her cheeks flushed.

" What do you mean V she asked, after a pause.

" I mean, in plain language, did he make love to you?" continued Stanmore. "It seems to me the whole thing looks very lika as it the poor follow had made a fool of himself for the sake of a heartless woman."

" That is unjust of you," said Belle, looking up with some indignation.

" No, it is not ; and you know very well what I mean. Diok Probyn is young and impulsive, and you allowed the poor young fellow to dangle after you until he lost his head. I "warned you about it, and if you had seen his mother's face this morning yon would have thought twice before yon trifled wjth his feelings." '" I never trifled with his feelings ; I told him I did not care for him."

"You oare for no one, that is the truth, Belle; there never was a woman with a colder heart."

" Well, you can think so if it pleases you," answered Belle, and she turned and left the room, feeling that she certainly had not deserved the hard words that Stanmore had spoken,* at least as regarded poor Dick Probyn.

Chapter XXI. An Unforgotten Face.

As days went on the breach between Stanmore and Belle did not lessen, At last Lady Stanmore notioed this, and spoke seriously to Belle on the subject /

"Belle, have you and Jack had any qnairel 1 " she said one day, as the two wer« Bitting together in the morning room, and Stanmore had ridden over to Hurst— which he did constantly— to inquire after Sir Diok.

"He said some very unkind things to me about poor Sir Dick," answered Belle. . 11 About your flirting with him ? Well, my dear, you did, you know." " I certainly did not. He admired me, I believe— in fact, he asked me to marry him before I married Stanmore— but I never made any pretence to him that I cared for him, and I certainly did not." •

" I don't think Jaok thinks you either did or do. Bat, Belle, my dear, lam going to speak tery gravely to you* He — Jack— as good as said to me last night that yon care for no one. ' Now, 1b this wise I

Belle-made no answer.

" Jack, or Stanmore rather, has made you his wife," continued Lady Stanmore. "He has given you position, wealth, everything indeed that a woman can have, and he naturally expects some little return for this. If you give him no love, Belle, other women will." "He knew I could give him no love/ said Belle in a low tone. " You may have told him so, but of course he did not believe it. All men tbink'thev can inspire love, and a man in Sbanmore's position bas not to go far to find it. There js a woman, Belle— a woman against whom I bear a grudge— who has certainly given Stanmoro. love. Take owe you do not tend Jrfm baoktohet*"

"Who Is the woman 1 " asked Bell? a,, little Gcornfally,

" She is a Mrs Seymour, and undoubtedly handsome, though I detest her. Jack has known her for years, and at one time she bad great influence over him. She was a married woman then, but she is a widow now, and she was bitterly disappointed when Jack married you. She came here and made a scene on your wedding day. I did not tell you this before, as I thought it unnecessary. I tell yon now as a warning." •• I do not understand you."

" This woman will meet Jaok again ; she moves in the same set, and if you give him no love she will. He is a man, remember, accußtomed to be flattered and made muoh of, and if you give him nothing he will naturally turn to her. I have no object in saying this bat your own good. You owe him at least gratitude, for he has done much foe yon."

" I will never do him any wrong." " But you are doing him a wrong by your indifference."

"We cannot help our feelings," replied Belle, almost sullenly. "I told you before I married Stanmore that, I oould never love him, and I never can. I like him, though be was unjust about Dick Prohyn, but that is all I oan ever feel to. him. My heart is quits cold to everyone, I think, Aunt Lucy," she added, and then without another word she rose and left the room, and Lady Stanmore looked after her uneasily?*

" She is very unwise," she thought, v bat . vr,hat can ia>.do 1 " f Belle went straight from the morning room, bare-headed as she was, out on to the terrace, and then down to the 'gardens below. She wa3 thinking of her life— the life that now seemed so wearisome to her— and also of her Aunt Lucy's words. The exoitement and freshness of her new position were gone, and 8h« had no home ties or joys to interest or amuse her.

" How different it might have been ! " aha thought, nnd she sighed restlessly, Jnst at this moment she saw Stanmore riding down the avenue on his return from Hurst, and ono» more she sighed. "If I had only been watching forliim ! " she half whispered, her mind pursuing the same train of ideas ; watching for the husband she loved, the man who held her heart In hit keeping. Yet something prompted her— perhaps the memory of what Lady Stanmore had said— to walk forward a short distance to meet him. Stanmore looked and felt surprised when he saw her npproaohing. He pulled his horse up when be met her, and for a moment looked at her with involuntary admiration as she stood with her bright head uncovered in the fresh autumnal air.

"Yon, Belle?" he said.

" Yes, I saw you coming, and I came to ask • you how poor Diok Probyn is this morning." , Stanmore looked at her curiously. " So you do feel a little sorry for the poor , fellow, then ? " he said.

. " I feel more than sorry. You should not say that to mp, Stanmore," she answered.

Again Stanmore looked at her, and then he dismounted and slipped his arra^ through tia, horse's rein. " I will walk back with you. I want you to tell me something, Bolle. What really occurred between yon and this 1 poor lad on the day when he was fool enough to shoot himself—for Ido not believe it was an accident?" Belle hesitated. " Have I any right to tell ? " the askod. " I think I have a right to hear, and it shall go no farther," he answered.

11 Well, Stanmore, you were unjust to me about him. What really ooourred was this : That day— whon you were in to wo, you know —Sir Dick came here, and, a« 1 told you, I was out walking. But he oame to seek me, I Bupposo, and when we. met be showed me a really splendid diamond and rnby pendant: he had brought. 1 thought he intended lfc as a present for his mother, and when I said thla to him he said no, he had had it made for me."

11 Indeed I " interrupted Stanmore. " Then I at onoe returned it to him, and said I could not possibly keep it. And — and after that he said some very foolish things, and I told him he must not say them."

" Made love to you, I suppose 1 " "I told him I did not owe for him and that I would not listen to such words, and I him to go away for a while, and told,, him he weufd sotn forget all about it. He parted with me very quietly, and said he-. ,wonld go away. That is just what took, plaoe." " Well, Belle, I am glad yon have told mo, thisy" began Stanmore, and then he paused. , "I do not Wish to be unjust or unkind to I you," he presently continued, " bat I am terribly sorry about all this for the sake of Lady Probyn. I never saw a woman so altered and bo aged, and the idea that you had any part in oausing this trouble bas annoyed me greatly. I believe the poor lad shot himself purposely, and I am sure so doss bis mother." ,

"But how oan you tell, Stanmore? It might have been accidental." "It might, of oourse ; but what was he doing .with a revolver out in the woods? And I am certain Lady Probyn knows more, than she Bays ; I see it in her faoe." " And how is he? You have not told ma. yet."

" A little better. Sir Riohard .Power was there yesterday, and his opinion was favourable as regards the wound. Bat his mother says his mental depression is something terrible. Let this be a warning to you Belle." ' '

The last words were not wise one*, and Belle secretly resented them. "Do r-t tell Aunt Lucy what I have told you," she said, and then parted with her husband. , "If he lived with me 100 years he would never understand me," she thought, as she returned to the house. - And this was so; there was no secret sympathy between them;, no unieen bond that time cannot snap. - Butsoutwardly they seemed better friends, after this explanation about poor Sir Dick, and Lady Stanmore congratulated herself on, the idea that her words had not been wasted. She was pleased also to hear there was better news from Hurst, and when a few days later an invitation arrived at the Court for an evening fete whioh was to be given in hononr of tho ooming of age of the only son. of one of their country' neighbours, iht insisted, on, it being accepted,

' Bat both Stanmore and Belle demurred. " Lfitly Probyn would scarcely like to hear of onr being there when Dick is still so ill," paid Stanmore. 41 1 should rather not go," remarked Belle, with her eyes oast down. "My dear Belle," answered Lady Stanmore, smiling, "if you do not go because poor Dick Probyn accidentally shot himselry people will say you are in love with him." " They could scarcely say that," eaid Stanmore gravely. " And besides, the Marohmonts will be 60 disappointed," continued Lady Stanmore. "Mrs Marohmont told me the other day when she called that she had set her heart on you being the belle of the ball, Belle. She admires you immensely." M Well, accept the invitation at any rate," decided Stanmore. " That will be the best plan, and we can be guided by circumstances." The invitation was accordingly accepted, though Belle felt unwilling to go. Diok Probyn'ftasb aot had been a great shock to her, and she scarcely liked to think of dancing and mirth when the poor fellow who had loved her too well still lay so ill. But Lady Stanmore was tired -of the quiet life they had been leading, and i Mrs ' Marchmont always flattered Her. The Marchmonts were considered "..new people" amongst the old families around Redvefs Court,' but they were immensely wealthy, and manv^of the old families were not. Therefore gradually, little by 1 little, they had been admitted into society, and Mrs Mirohmont; who was»ambitiou9,'made the* most of this. v She bad known and courted the dowager Lady Stanmore when she was mistresi cf the Court, and now she was determined' to court the present Lady Stanmore; The majority .of- her son, .who was a good-looking young man,- and had been educated at Eton and Cambridge, was to be celebrated by a grand entertainment, and Mrs Marohmont was most anxious that Belle ■should grace this with her presence. She came over to Rodvera to entreat them personally to go, and it ended in their doing so. The news from Hurßt wa9 reassuring, and in the end Stanmore saw nothing to prevent their appearance. • .. . Marcbmont Hall, where the Marchmonts lived, was a very handsome new house built amid old ground?. When Mr Marohmont bought the property he pulled- down the grey crumbling mansion where a long-descended race had dwelt and passed away. Their fortunes also had orumbled-as well as their walls, and' the last of the family had been only too glad to sell the old place to the rich new man. Mr Uarchmont called the stately edifice that he erected »f ocr his own name, bat be did not out down the old trees that for hundreds of years had bedded and leafed in the wide-spreading park and- the now .trim lawns/ It was, in faofc, a fine place, and its. owriere borev fhemßelves bravely, . They wished to'-get on in the world, and they fucceeaed.They bad one son and- two pretty, daughters, and.a» their wealth was known to be great, we. may, be sure that tbeße -youpg people were by no means, neglected., , . r ■ Everything that money could do had been done to make-this fSce a great sucoess. As the Stanmores drove into the grounds they saw the whole park and gardens lighted up with hundreds of coloured lamps, and the strains of trjp Bine Hungarian Band, which Mrs Marohmont had brought down from town for the occasion, were already to be heard in the distance. But the dancing had not yet commenced in the ballroom. They were, in truth, waiting for the arrival .of Belle, with whom the. young heir had declared he would open the ball. Belle was looking charming, dressed in whito brocade, with the costly necklace of pearls that Stanmore had given her before her marriage as her only ornament. Her bouquet was also of pure white flowers, and so was her ostrich feather fan. There was a little murmur of admiration as she entered the reception room leaning on Stanmore's arm ; he was so tall and stately, and she ao fair. Lady Stanmore, of . oourse, . accompanied them, blazing with diamonds, some of which were the family jewels ; but. Belle had insisted en her wearing these, and Lady Stanmore had been nothing loth. She had, in fact, grudged these diamonds passing into Belle's possession almost more than anything else, and she now consoled herself , by thinking that no. one conld possibly "know they were not her.own. ■ - Mr and Mrs Marchmoitt received the family party effusively, ar'd yonngMarchuont at once hurried up to Belle. ~ , "Will you honour me by danoing the first dance with me, Lady Stanmore 1 " he said, bis good-looking young faoe flushing with pleasure and pride as Belle smiled and he placed bis hr.nd on her arm. They passed down the room together, the reception room leading to tha ballroom, and as they did so many eyes followed them. Amongst those , who looked after them was a dark, pale, soldier-iike looking man, who -was leaning against one of the walls, partly hemmed in by the crowd. He smiled a little bitterly as Belle and her companion passed him, but he made no other sign and was totally unnoticed by Belle. A minute or so later the band commenced a waltz and the ballroom rapidly filled. The man who had looked at Belle bo earnestly followed with the rest. Again he leaned against one of the richly-decorated walls ; again bis eyes sought the slim girlish figure in white, and rested on the charming free, and this time sighed. Belle danced very gracefully, and she had a good partner. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes shone with the exercise, and- both Stanmore and Lady Stanmore, who had also gone into the ballroom, looked at her admiringly. " Belle looks very pretty to-night," Lady Stanmore said, though half -grudgingly, to her brother-in-law. "She is always pretty," answered Stanmore. Lady Stanmore, however, was not long content to watoh the dancers ; she proposed to Stanmore that th^y should go Into the cardreom, and Stanmore' took her there. - In the meanwhile, the first time that they pauied, yonrg Marchmont was entreating .Belle to give him more dances during the evening. " Hew many may I have, Lady Stanmore ? " he said. "You waltz so charmingly I cancot bear the idea of waltzing with anyone •Is*." Belle laughed a low, tweet, ringing Uagb.

" You most, on the contrary, danoe with everyone else," she answered. " I will dance with you once again— that is all."

" Ah, that is too cruel. Let me at least have the first waltz after supper in addition to the two before ? "

Again Belle laughed, and this time her laugh reached the ears of tbe man leaning against the wall who was watching her so intently. " Do not let us waste our time now," continued young Marohmont. " Shall we oommeuce 1 " Belle slightly turned her head to comply with his request, and as she did bo she gave a sudden start, and the flash on her obeeks paled. " Not yet," she said faintly, and young Marchmont looked at her anxiously. They were standing immediately in front of the soldier-like man leaning against tbe wall, and Belle's eyes had fallen on bis face as she turned her head. Again she looked at him, and a thrill of fear passed through her heart. Was it a dream or a vision such' as she had seen dimly on her wedding morn? This question passed vaguely through her mind, but not for long. The man, whose faoe she knew, whose face she never could forget, seeing that she had reoogniied him, now advanced * lowly towards her. It was Hugh Gilbert', pale and altered, but the strong, resolute 'expression, tbe grey eyes, were unmistakably his. „ " You are surprised to see me ? " he Bald, addressing -Belle without holding out his hand. 4 ' - " "" Belle made a, great effort, and a low "faltering " Yes " escaped her quivering lips. " I am at home on sick leave," oontinued Gilbert ; " I have had fever, and am staying for a few' .days here with my friend Matchmont"; and he looked at the young heir. 11 You look better already, Gilbert," said young Marohmont. " I did not know you knew him, Lady Stanmore ?" Again Belle answered " Yes," and the two who had -loved each other so deeply— who had been parted so strangely— stood looking at each other silently, alike unable to understand how anything conld have come between tbe absorbing passion of their hearts. It was Belle who first roused .herself — who first remembered. There flashed across her brain* a memory fraught with pain— a memory that stung and roused her pride. "And your wife?" she asked — and her voice had lost its usual sweetness of tone. "Is she here?" " My . wife ? " repeated Gilbert in the utmost surprise. "I have no wife. What do you mean 1 " "No wife ? " faintly echoed Belle, her eyes still fixed on his face. "No, of course he has no wife, Lady Stanmore," said young Marohmont with' a light , .laugh. "What an- idea 1 " Fanoy old Gilbert ' married I" . . • " Then 7 I have been deceived," murmured Belle -faintly, with quivering lips. , Young. : Marchmont looked from, one to the other. He was quick-witted, and he saw that between these two lay some, heart secret .unfitted for other ear?. ' ' •• "I must go and seek my next partner, Lady Scanmorf," he said hastily. " Gilbert here will take care of you," ana he hurried away. Without speaking Hugh Gilbert held out his arm to Belle, and she silently took it. They passed together among the crowd, and he led her through the conservatory at the end of the ballroom to the lighted grounds below. They were both - greatly agitated, and Gilbert felt Bolle's hand trembling on bis arm. Then, when they were comparatively alone, he turned and looked in' her face. " What does this all mean, Belle ? " he said. " Why did you think I was married or believe that enoh a thing cnuld'be, though I knew you were?" " Not until they told me you were married to Miss Vane," answered Belle in a broken and trembling voice. Then — then I did not care what I did— l " " We have been shamefully deceived," oontinued Gilbert; sternly as Belle's voice failed her. " Come down here and tell me how^t was." 1

(To be continued.)